


Possibly I Like The Thrill

by likeasugarcube



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fingerfucking, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Tapes, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeasugarcube/pseuds/likeasugarcube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <a href="http://souldiers.livejournal.com/8945.html">Calms Jittery Nerves</a> by <a href="http://sharon-hate.livejournal.com/">sharon_hate</a>. Pete watches the tape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibly I Like The Thrill

Pete pops the tape into the VCR, presses play, and immediately sees Patrick looking into the camera."> Pete pops the tape into the VCR, presses play, and immediately sees Patrick looking into the camera. Patrick's thanking him, and while Pete's glad that Patrick is no longer mad at him for what was obviously one of his stupider ideas, he's kind of confused as to where this is going. Patrick's just standing there awkwardly, looking at the camera. And suddenly, he's pulling his shirt over his head, skewing his glasses.

"Holy shit." Pete presses the eject button so hard he's surprised he doesn't break the damn thing. If this is what he thinks it is, (oh god, what he _hopes_ it is) he's going to have to watch it when he's sure he can be alone. He hides the tape at the bottom of his closet, in the shoebox where he keeps his porn. 

Waiting until he has the house to himself so he can look at it again is torture. It's a full three days of just _wondering_. Pete has never been so grateful not to have band practice; he doesn't think he could deal with being in the same room as Patrick right now.

Finally he gets his chance: his siblings are out for the night, and his parents are about to leave for a Christmas party. He kisses his mom goodbye, assuring her that he'll have something more nutritious than leftover Christmas cookies for dinner. He watches until their car disappears down the street before running upstairs to his room. He locks the door and gets the tape out of the closet, just holding it for a few seconds, before walking over to put it in the VCR. 

It occurs to him that what's on this tape may very well be considered child porn. He can't bring himself to care; he wants, no, _needs_ to see what's on it. He presses play, and sits down on the edge of his bed. Patrick's on his television screen once again, shirtless and awkward.

Pete probably shouldn't be so turned on by how obviously nervous Patrick is about this.

Then again, maybe he's not so nervous after all, because a moment later Patrick is pulling down his jeans. By the time Patrick's completely naked, Pete is already hard. He watches intently, eyes wide, as Patrick starts jerking himself off. Pete feels a bit like a creep but can't help rubbing himself through his jeans. He has to remind himself that Patrick wanted him to see this, although he still hasn't decided if that makes it better or worse. Pete hears a soft sound that he thinks is a moan and he scrambles for the remote, turning up the volume. He doesn't want to miss a single sound Patrick makes. 

This ends up being an excellent decision, because a second later Patrick is swearing as he presses his fingers inside of himself. And well, Pete's heard Patrick swear before, of course, but never in the context of sex. Never when he's fucking down onto his own fingers, his breath catching as he stretches himself open. 

Pete undoes his jeans and shoves them and his underwear down around his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock and jerking himself off roughly. He rubs his thumb over the head, smearing the precome with his palm. It's not enough, and it hurts a bit, but he doesn't stop. He thinks about reaching for the lotion next to his bed, but he can't seem to bring himself to look away from the television screen.

Patrick's working the vibrator in now, panting and gripping the comforter. He looks as though he's about to fall apart and Pete would give just about anything to have been there, touching him, kissing him. He moans and bites his bottom lip at the thought. And then he hears, "Pete, fuck."

Patrick's voice sounds broken, overcome. Pete feels himself tense suddenly, gasps, "Oh god," and jerks himself hard as he comes.

No one is ever going to find out that Pete came the second he heard Patrick say his name. Not even Patrick. _Especially_ not Patrick.

Pete jerks off two more times before he gets to the end of the video. It's not a personal best, but it's close. Besides, he's not as young as he used to be. He wipes his hand off on his sheets and lies back, catching his breath.

"I'm going to jail," he mumbles to himself, staring up at the ceiling. A part of him knows he should destroy the tape, smash it to pieces, erase it, or something, but he can't stop thinking about how Patrick made it just for _him_ , to say _thank you_. He thinks about the way Patrick's voice sounded when he said Pete's name over and over again as he came and he just _can't_.

He thinks about calling Patrick. He actually picks up the phone a couple of times, but stops before he gets the last number dialed.

Instead he just rewinds the tape and watches it again.

\--

Pete knows it's more than a little fucked up to buy your best friend a sex toy instead of actually telling him you're in love with him, but, well, Pete's always been a little fucked up. Especially when it comes to love. Sometimes it works out though. Sometimes your best friend makes you a sex tape to say thank you. After a couple of days of angsting over the situation, Pete decides this means he and Patrick are meant to be. He really hopes he's not wrong.

It's been almost a week since Patrick gave him the tape and they still haven't spoken. Pete's pretty sure they'll end up seeing each other at Joe's New Year's Eve party and he'd really like to avoid having that first awkward conversation in front of all of their friends.

He doesn't call before he heads over to Patrick's house, hoping spontaneity will be on his side.

Patrick's mom answers the door and invites him in but Pete just shakes his head. "I can't stay. I just need to talk to Patrick for a second, if that's okay?"

"Of course. I'll tell him that you're here." She smiles before disappearing from the doorway.

Patrick comes downstairs wearing only a t-shirt, pajama bottoms and socks with holes in them. His hat is a little crooked, like he just threw it on, and his hair sticks out messily underneath. It's the afternoon but it looks like Patrick just rolled out of bed. Pete really wants to press him up against the door jamb and kiss him.

Patrick won't even look him in the eye.

"Did you, um, did you watch it?" he mumbles out, looking at his feet.

"Yeah," Pete says. Only five or six times. "Hey, Patrick, come on, look at me." He reaches out and curls his hand around the back of Patrick's neck. "Please. Tell me that meant what I think it did."

Patrick apparently finds the hole in his sock extremely interesting.

"Um." He finally looks up at Pete, face flushed. Pete can't take any more of this. He pulls Patrick in by the front of the shirt and kisses him, hard at first, then softer, slower, hands moving up from the front of Patrick's shirt to cup his face.

Please, he thinks, please, don't let me be wrong about this. 

Patrick makes soft, startled noises as Pete kisses him. His hands come to rest on Pete's waist as he kisses back, tongue slipping into Pete's mouth. Pete finally pulls back, and Patrick, if possible, is even redder than before.

"Pete, my _mom_ could have seen that," Patrick says, glancing over his shoulder. He turns back to Pete, fingers slipping into Pete's belt loops, and looks up at him as he asks, "So are we boyfriends or something now?" Pete laughs, relieved, and pulls Patrick into a hug.

"We've always been something," he says into Patrick's neck.


End file.
